


Apollo of the Fjord

by Copper_mouth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, That's right, general obliviousness, i said what i said, inspired by King of the Hill, unedited, vikings and beer cans and baseball oh my!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copper_mouth/pseuds/Copper_mouth
Summary: Tony thinks Steve is being cheated on, and he's bound and determined to confront somebody about it. But everything is not what it seems.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 216





	1. Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was actually inspired by a King of the Hill episode (Peggy's headache, S03,E03). Yes, this is largely an excuse for that conversational exchange - you'll know the one. Basically I took all the ridiculousness of that episode and compounded it exponentially, for fun. That's fun, right?
> 
> I'm actually posting something that's not finished for once, in the hopes that it will spur me into finishing it. Feel free to berate me into submission if it takes too long. If we're lucky I'll actually edit the first chapter after I finish the second part.
> 
> (Side note - there are no female MCU characters in this because I literally couldn’t stand making any of them as stupid as the characters on King of the Hill.)

Steve’s the last one to know. 

He’s been on the team with Ty for three years, they’ve all been rooming on the same hall since spring semester, and some business major has been grinding on Ty’s lap for 90 minutes before Steve puts two and two together. 

“Bucky?” He nudges his best friend tentatively and nods to the pair in the corner. Clint turns around to look too. 

“Do you think…” Steve trails off. He hates to accuse someone of something like that. There has to be an explanation anyways. “Is Ty – ? I mean…it just looks kind of suspicious.” 

His teammates are all looking at him with varying degrees of pointedness and sympathy on their faces. 

“Ty’s not really…” Steve swallows and tries again. “He’s not actually cheating on Tony Stark, is he? That’s…that’s not a thing. Right?” 

Clint claps him on the shoulder before he wanders off, most likely in search of more jello shots, but not without imparting his wisdom first. “If Jay-Z can cheat on Beyoncé, man, anything can happen.” 

The music from the party seems very far away now. “Bucky?” Steve tries. 

Bucky sighs. “You really didn’t know, huh? Always wondered how you could stand to be around him.” 

Steve just blinks at him owlishly. He’s not going to believe anything until someone comes right out and says it, he’s just not. 

“Ty’s been cheating on Tony as long as they’ve been together, Steve.” Bucky tells him. 

He squeezes the can in his hand hard enough for the beer inside to come spewing out the top, causing cries of dismay from the party-goers near them. Steve couldn’t care less. He’s suddenly nauseous anyways. 

⁂ 

It’s awkward, the next time they’re all hanging out, the night before the team’s next big home game. 

Steve can’t stop sneaking glances at Tony or Ty, especially when they’re intertwined with each other on the couch. Ty has a possessive hand on Tony’s hip, but Tony doesn’t seem to be paying him much mind even as he leans back against his chest. His eyes seem to be darting around the room as much as Steve’s, and something hot and excruciating passes between them every time their glances meet. 

Tony’s been frowning at Bucky all night, his eyes skittering away to where Steve sits every time Clint makes one of his stupid jokes and Bucky leans in, laughing a little too loudly with his hand on Clint’s knee. 

Everyone is out of sorts tonight, Steve figures. Must be the pre-game jitters. 

⁂ 

They win, of course. With Clint pitching no-hitters from the mound, Steve behind home base calling the plays, Bucky manning short-stop like a fiend, and Ty hitting one out of the park every inning, there was no way they could lose. 

Steve rolls his eyes as Bucky and Clint leave their hands lingering on the other’s behind a little too long after the typical post-victory slaps, heads together and nearly tripping over their feet in their enthusiasm. He sees Ty hamming it up as usual as he walks off the field, striking ridiculous poses to the sound of Tony cheering him on from the stands. 

He locks eyes with Tony as he steps into the dugout, and that electrifying jolt slams through him again before Tony blinks and looks away. Suddenly, he’s as angry as he’s ever been, triumphant adrenaline souring as it thrums through his veins, scorching his chest as he tugs his mitt off and throws it onto the bench. Tony deserves better than that arrogant, unrepentant dirtbag, no matter how good he is on the field. 

Someone claps him on the shoulder, and he whirls around to see Ty grinning at him, big and blonde and sharply handsome as he leans into Steve and sweats on him companionably. “Great game, huh Cap?” he asks innocuously enough, face turning to surprise as Steve shrugs him off and stomps towards the locker room without answering him. 

“What’s with him?” he hears Ty asking as he walks away, then the sounds of the crowd celebrating and the band playing fade away as the door slams shut behind him. 

He’s mostly stripped and heading towards the showers when he hears the door to the field opening again. Eyes raised to the ceiling as he sighs, Steve turns around, ready to paste a smile on his face for one of his teammates, only to see Tony standing in front of him, breathing hard and staring in the general vicinity of his nipples. 

Steve flushes and whips the towel off his shoulder, then realizes he’s holding it in front of him like a startled nun and he’s not even all the way naked. He awkwardly lowers his arms to his sides and tries to prevent them from twitching back upwards to cover him from Tony’s wide-eyed scrutiny. 

Shaking himself a little, Tony drags his eyes upwards to Steve’s face, a solemnity unusual for him pulling his lips downwards and his brows together. 

“I know why you’re upset,” Tony says. 

Steve closes his eyes in mortification. Was he that obvious in his protectiveness over Tony? 

“It really sucks when you think someone loves you and then they show you just how little they actually care,” Tony continues. God, this is horrible. Steve’s flattered that Tony has come to him for support, he really is, but he’s terrible at this sort of thing. Any of their friends would have been a better choice to console Tony. But, Tony chose him. Steve squares his shoulders. He cares way too much about Tony – there’s no way he’s gonna let him down. 

“There’s no excuse for cheating,” Steve interjects firmly. He needs Tony to know that he is on Tony’s side, absolutely. 

Tony’s gaze slides downwards for a moment, a vulnerable expression haunting his face before being shuttered quickly as Tony looks back up. 

“You're right,” Tony says. “Trust me, I know from experience how much it can hurt.” 

“I – I know,” Steve replies, brow furrowing slightly. “That’s – “ 

_That’s what we’re talking about,_ he’d been trying to say, but Tony interrupts him before he can finish his thought. 

“If Bucky wants to be with Clint instead of you, he should have the balls to just tell you so,” Tony blurts out. 

Wait. What? 

“What?” Steve asks dumbly. Tony is looking at him with a heartbroken expression – a _pitying_ expression, he’s upset on Steve’s behalf, and – oh. Oh no. 

Tony gentles, and brings a hand up to squeeze Steve’s bare arm. The pressure burns sweetly hot, but Steve can’t concentrate on it as Tony peers up at him, guileless and open and trying to be comforting. Trying to be a good friend. 

Something numb settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach. 

“You have to know, Steve,” Tony says softly. This – cannot be happening. “I know you see Bucky and Clint flirting all the time. You deserve better than that.” 

Steve stares into those dark eyes, shimmering with anger and suspiciously wet, indignant and concerned – on behalf of _him._

“Thank you,” he murmurs, overwhelmed, then blinks quickly. Wait, Tony’s got it all wrong. He shouldn’t be tacitly agreeing with what Tony’s saying – he has to tell him that Steve and Bucky aren’t together, and Steve’s _glad_ to see his best and oldest friend finding someone he’s interested in. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Tony’s saying, his quiet voice layering over Steve like a protective shield as his thumb makes soothing circles into the skin above Steve’s elbow, and Steve’s paralyzed beneath how good it feels. 

Tony nods once, then steps back. He looks like he’s reached a decision. “I’m going to talk to them,” he says. 

_Shit._ Tony’s already halfway to the door before Steve can unglue his feet from the floor to go stumbling after him. 

“Wait, Tony, you don’t need to do that,” Steve says desperately, catching up with him right before the door. 

Tony turns around and his eyes are blazing as he looks at Steve, catching him in their spell again. “Why shouldn’t I?” he demands. “You’re my friend, Steve. I hate to see you hurting like this. I’m not going to stay silent about it any longer!” 

He storms out before Steve can stop him, leaving him gaping in his wake. Cursing, Steve grabs his jersey and goes sliding out after Tony, nearly running into Bucky in the process. 

“What’s wrong with Tony?” Bucky frowns. “I saw him come flying out of here like a bat out of hell. Looks like he’s on a mission. You alright?” 

Steve grabs him and pulls him closer, Bucky looking alarmed as Steve tries to catch his breath enough to explain. 

“Tony thinks you and I are together, and you’re cheating on me with Clint!” he finally exclaims. 

Bucky’s mouth opens on an understanding ‘o’, then their heads turn simultaneously as if drawn on a string to where Tony is striding up to an unsuspecting Clint. 

“Shit!” They both swear as they scramble together to where the scene is unfolding before them. Clint is looking increasingly confused, and Tony steadily more murderous, as they slide in behind where Clint is sitting and gesture furiously at Tony. 

Tony glares at them as Clint’s attention is thankfully distracted by a young fan coming up and asking him for pitching tips. Chest heaving like he had just run a marathon, Steve tries to pantomime to Tony before Clint turns back around. 

_Bucky and I_ – Steve flaps his hand between the two of them as one of Tony’s eyebrows climbs higher, then he waves at Steve impatiently to continue when Steve stops to make sure Tony is following. _Are not_ – he makes a big X with his arms and shakes his head as he mouths the words, Tony watching intently. _Together_ – he puts his arm around a wide-eyed Bucky and motions between the two of them again, then realizes what that might look like and jumps away fearfully, praying that Tony understands. 

It looks like he does. Tony’s face is caught in a rictus of mortified understanding, and he grits his teeth as his incredulous stare turns to Steve and his eyes seem to demand a question out of him – _why didn’t you just tell me that?_

Chagrined, Steve drops his gaze and shuffles his feet until the tightening of Bucky’s hands on his arms alerts him that Clint is returning his attention to the conversation. 

“So, what was it that you wanted to tell me, Tony?” he asks, still oblivious to his two sweating teammates shaking in their cleats behind him. 

“I – I just found out that, um,” Tony flounders, his eyes flying wildly around the stadium in a search for inspiration, before pausing briefly on the sky above them. “That the…Vikings! Were the first visitors to – to the moon.” 

Steve’s mouth falls open as Bucky trembles with silent laughter beside him. Then Clint scoffs. 

“Well, I knew that,” he says, producing an orange from somewhere and starting to peel it with his nails. Bucky’s laughter subsides. “Why do you think we named our spacecraft after them?” 

Tony blinks. His mouth shudders into a forced smile, like he’s voluntarily moving each muscle into place despite their vehement protests. “Right,” he says, and clears his throat. “Of course. Silly me.” 

Clint shakes his head, then stands up and walks off. “Poor, naïve Tony,” he says as he goes. 

Tony, Steve, and Bucky look at each other. Despite the situation, Steve can’t help but turn his head to look at Bucky, who’s suddenly developed an encompassing interest in the grass below his feet. 

“That one?” Steve asks a little desperately. 

Bucky huffs and pushes off him to follow after Clint. “Like you have any room to talk,” he shoots back over his shoulder, leaving Steve blushing again and looking anywhere but at Tony. 

After a few minutes of Steve dithering and trying to disappear into the earth, he hears Tony sigh. 

“Steve,” he says. “I feel like we were having two different conversations in the locker room.” 

Steve cringes, then pulls himself together. He’s never been a coward in his life, and he’s not going to start now. 

“I thought we were talking about you and Ty,” he says quietly. When he sneaks a glance at Tony, his smile is wry and self-deprecating, and Steve’s chest clenches. 

“Right,” Tony says. “That makes sense. That we would be talking about my boyfriend, and how he cheats on me constantly. Of course.” 

Steve closes his eyes against Tony’s rueful expression that’s doing its best at becoming nonchalant. Tony must decide the effort not worth it, because when Steve opens his eyes again Tony is sliding on his sunglasses and looking past Steve towards the exit. 

He moves aside to let Tony go, but he can’t help the question that slips out of his mouth. “Why do you stay with him?” 

Tony pauses, and Steve watches his back as it tenses and then slumps in turn. “Might as well, when I can’t have what I really want,” he shrugs. 

Steve catches his arm before he can leave completely. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For trying to help when you thought it was me. You’re a good friend.” 

Tony doesn’t say anything, and then he walks off the field. Steve stands for a long time under the bright of the lights as the crowd surges around him before he turns and trudges back inside. 


	2. Liftoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ridiculousness continues. Editing's not really going to happen with this. At this point I just need to get in the habit of getting the words out and not worry so much about how perfect it can be. So, this is what we got. Hope you enjoy the fascinating conclusion to the tale of the densest college students to ever metaphorically stand around and say "yep" to each other. Oh man. I didn't include a scene where everyone stands around and says "yep" in this fic! Gotdangit. My muse may yet circle around to kick me in the ass over this again. (In the meantime, please watch King of the Hill.)

Steve doesn’t notice anything besides the bottom of the red solo cup he’s staring into until Bucky leaps out of his seat with a curse, spilling his beer all over the both of them.

“What the fuck?” Steve snaps as he tries to wipe off his jacket before it stains.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky’s chanting as he hops in a circle, trying to get his arms through his own coat without losing the rest of his drink in the process. “I’m outta here on that one,” he continues inexplicably, clapping Steve on the shoulder and sending a sorrowful glance in reply to Steve’s hands raising in question. “Nice knowing ya, pal.”

Eyes narrowed, Steve watches Bucky make his escape across the room, until a shadow falls over him where he sits. Feeling suddenly very cold, Steve turns and looks up slowly, gaze traveling over muscled arms crossing a uniformed chest, and into the unamused face of one James “Rhodey” Rhodes.

Steve gulps.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” Rhodes says as he leans over him threateningly.

Steve knows if he stood up he would be taller than the man in front of him, knows if they compared benching weights or time per mile, Steve would come out on top. Steve knows that he himself is in peak physical form, one of the best, most finely-honed athletes their school has ever seen. He also knows absolutely none of that matters in the face of Rhodes’s protective fury over one Tony Stark.

So this is how it ends.

“Help me understand something, Steven,” Rhodes says as he plants one combat boot onto the wooden seat of the chair Steve is sitting on, right in front of his crotch. Steve swallows again and tries to shift backwards, but he’s pinned. He doesn’t want to mention that his name isn’t actually Steven.

“Help me understand why my little brother is sitting all alone in our dorm room, moping and miserable like somebody pissed in his Wheaties as he scrolls through the baseball team’s Instagram page, while you and the rest of said flunkies are getting down with your bad selves at yet another _stupid_ party.”

Steve frowns at that and sits up a little straighter. “Wait, why is he alone?” he asks. “I thought he was out with Ty. Shouldn’t they be celebrating after Tony’s big robotics presentation?”

Rhodes leans back and looks at him appraisingly. The toe of his boot makes a loud grinding noise as he shifts his weight, and Steve tries to remind himself and the beers he’s already had that he hasn’t wet himself in at least 15 years and really doesn’t need to bring that back now.

“That shithead’s not with Tony,” Rhodes finally says. “Thought he would be here, finding someone to get his dick wet while you all laugh at how he’s getting one over on Tony.”

The chair clatters to the floor as Steve leaps to his feet. “That is not what happens!” he manages to gasp out, before an unimpressed brow raises on Rhodes’s face at the commotion, and Steve’s courage falters again. “S-sir,” he tacks on nervously.

Rhodes snorts. “Keep your panties on, Rogers. And sit back down,” he adds. “You’re causing a scene.”

Steve hesitates, but when he sees that Rhodes is sitting down as well he joins him. “That is _not_ the way it is,” he says urgently, albeit in a lower tone of voice. “I do not approve of the way Ty treats Tony. None of us does! And we sure as hell don’t help him do it either.”

Rhodes considers him. “Then what’s this I hear about you making Tony think you were having some kind of love triangle bullshit with Barnes and helium-head, only to turn it around on _his_ relationship when he tried to stick up for you? Which you have never done for him, I might add.”

Steve gapes. “Th – that was an accident. I had no idea Tony thought Bucky and I were together. I wasn’t trying to turn it around on him, or, or – make light of the situation or anything! And besides,” he adds, indignation warring with his nerves. “What have you done to stick up for Tony?”

He knows as soon as he says that it was the wrong tactic. Rhodes grinds his teeth as he gets up in Steve’s face, grabbing onto the front of his jersey when he tries to move back to a safer distance.

“That asshole took out a restraining order against me after I found out the shit he puts Tony through. I’m not allowed within a hundred fucking yards! But I guess that happened from all the not sticking up for Tony I’ve done.”

Steve apologizes profusely, desperately trying to clear the air between them, because he has to know – “Why is Tony still with that creep? If anything I thought he would listen to your opinion about it.”

Rhodes sighs. “Man, you know you can’t tell Tony anything, especially when he’s hellbent on making himself miserable. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get anything besides scraps from the people he cares about, okay? That’s just how he was raised.”

Images crawl through Steve’s mind – Tony laughing on the bleachers during one of their games, Tony’s bright eyes and the way they always give Steve 100% of his attention whenever they have a chance to speak one-on-one, Tony with nacho cheese on his face without realizing it and turning a bright beet red when someone pointed it out, Tony bent over and scribbling furiously at his workbench beside a shrine of empty energy drinks and pizza boxes, dark circles under his eyes and hair screwed and thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose because he was so close to figuring it out, he couldn’t stop _now,_ Tony’s smile, the way Tony always bit his lip when he was nervous and unsure of what to say, Tony’s hands, tugging at the ends of his sleeves or wielding a blowtorch effortlessly, Tony’s throat, bobbing as he sucked golden liquid out of whatever off-brand beer bottle someone had at one of their parties – Tony, Tony, Tony.

Steve draws the piece of paper out from the inner pocket of his jacket, unfolds it carefully and smooths it over his knee. Rhodes looks at it curiously, Steve’s thumbs brushing softly against the penciled drawing of Tony’s latest creation, the helper-bot named Dum-E he’d just presented to the world today. He isn’t sure what the indecipherable sound Rhodes makes in the back of his throat means, but he can’t bring himself to care or to ask.

Long, calloused fingers reach out to fold the sketch carefully back into Steve’s hands, and Steve looks up questioningly into the face of Tony’s best friend.

“Maybe you should go show that drawing to Tony now,” Rhodes says. His lips twitch up briefly, but his eyes are as dark and inscrutable as always.

Steve wants to question him, but then he remembers who exactly he is talking to, and he nods instead.

⁂

Steve makes his way to Tony’s dorm in a daze. On his way, he passes none other than Ty, secreted into a corner with his tongue halfway down the throat of some twink. Steve grits his teeth and moves on.

Tony jumps when Steve bangs the door open to his room, and Steve cringes as Tony flails and tries to keep from pitching off of the desk chair he’s sitting in. Maybe he should have knocked first before barging in.

Before he can apologize, however, Tony is wiping hastily at his eyes and staring at him like he’s the last person he would have expected to see here. Steve feels, impossibly, even worse.

“Wha – Steve? What are you doing here?” Tony asks.

Well, hmm. Shit. What is Steve supposed to say to that? I’m here because your best friend threatened me because I accidentally added to the bullshit drama in your life and he told me to come see you and I think it’s because he could tell I’m stupidly in love with you and have been for years? _That’s_ not going to be helpful.

He unfolds the paper he still has clutched in his fingers instead and hands it to Tony. “I wanted to give you this,” Steve says hesitantly.

Tony takes it and freezes when he sees it, tears welling up in his eyes again. _Way to go Rogers,_ Steve thinks furiously to himself. _You made him cry. Again._

But then he sees that Tony is smiling and laughing a little through his tears. “You made DUM-E,” he says, looking up at Steve and positively blinding him with the smile unfurling across his face.

“No,” Steve says dimly. “ _You_ made DUM-E.”

Tony chuckles, and Steve rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. “And he’s amazing,” Steve continues. Tony blinks up at him. “The things you do, Tony, they’re incredible. I’m so, _so_ proud of you.”

Steve catches a glimpse of pink-tinged cheeks before Tony ducks his head. “Thank you, Steve,” he mumbles into his shirt. He keeps running his fingers carefully over the lines on the page in front of him, until he takes a deep breath and sets the drawing aside on the desk beside him.

“Thought you would be at the party,” Tony tells him.

Steve scuffs his feet nervously on the carpet. “N-no,” he says. “I mean, I was there! For a bit. But, um. I wanted to come see you. Rhodes said you were here. I thought maybe you and Ty might have gone out tonight.”

Tony laughs humorously. “Nope. I haven’t seen him since last night.”

Anger twinges in Steve’s chest, but Tony continues, eyes focused somewhere on the ground near their feet.

“I thought he might be at the party, too,” Tony continues. “You haven’t seen him have you?”

Steve can’t help but twitch at the question, and of course Tony notices and figures what it means. “Oh,” Tony says, and drops his eyes back down again. “Right.”

Silence falls, neither of them seeming to know what to say for several long moments.

Tony sighs. “You must think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?” he asks.

Steve sucks in a quick breath, then he’s kneeling at Tony’s feet, catching his startled gaze and holding it in his own.

“ _No,_ Tony, I don’t. None of this is on you, okay? It just reflects poorly on Ty.” Tony doesn’t look convinced, so Steve plows ahead, heart jackhammering in his throat. “You deserve way better than how he treats you. _I_ would – I would treat you better than that. If. If I had the chance.”

Tony’s staring at him unblinkingly now, focused and intense and oh so very close. “You don’t want the chance, Steve,” he says. “I’ve known you for three years and you haven’t once been interested in me.”

Steve’s mouth falls open. “ _What?_ Where did you get that idea? Tony, I’ve been crazy about you ever since I met you!”

Oh, _fuck._ Steve can’t believe he said that! Tony’s going to throw him out now, he’s never going to want to speak to him again, he’s, he’s – _pressing his lips against Steve’s._

Tony’s thrown himself forward off of the chair, knocking a quiet _oof_ out of Steve as he lands on his lap, and his eyes are closed and his arms are wrapping around Steve’s shoulders and his _mouth_ is melding into his.

Steve presses forward before Tony can realize what he’s doing and comes to his senses. He crowds Tony close, tightening his own arms around Tony’s middle, and their lips are parting and everything is coming together into one sweet, agonizing glide. He groans into Tony’s mouth, feels Tony lips curling up at the edges in return, and dives as far as he can into what he distantly recognizes as the best kiss he’s ever had.

They surface eventually, minutes or hours later, breathing hard and panting into each other’s space, and then they’re both laughing, holding each other up as they giggle helplessly, Steve pulling Tony back up into his lap every time he almost slips to the ground in the face of their light-hearted relief.

Finally Tony pulls himself together, and Steve quiets so he can watch him. Tony looks down on him from his perch, a small, secret smile playing across his lips, his eyes warm and boring straight into Steve’s.

“Ok,” Tony says, like he’s agreeing to something. Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

Tony huffs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “ _Okay,_ I’m giving you a chance, Rogers. I’ll let you show me how much better of a boyfriend than Ty you can be.”

It takes a minute for Steve’s brain to come back online, chest swelling with elation and heart feeling so full he thinks it might burst, but with each passing second without a response from him Tony’s smile grows dimmer and weakens.

“I mean,” Tony says, swallowing and looking down. “If you want to, that is.”

Whatever else he might have said is swallowed up as Steve kisses him again, pausing only to say “Yes, _yes,_ Tony _please,”_ before going back to showing him how feels, again and again and again.

⁂

When they stumble into the party an hour later, hair wild and matching sated expressions on their faces, Ty’s sulking alone beside where Bucky’s perched in Clint’s lap, Rhodes leaning up against the wall nearby sullenly and glaring at Ty as if daring him to say anything.

Ty sputters as he sees Steve and Tony coming in. “What the _fuck,”_ he spits out indignantly. “Did you just fuck my boyfriend, Rogers?”

Steve draws himself up and tucks a smiling Tony under his arm. “No,” he answers loftily. “I just fucked _my_ boyfriend.”

Everyone in the room besides Ty erupts into cheers, and Tony pulls him down for yet another lingering kiss, his thousandth tonight and the beginning of many more to come. Steve holds Tony even closer as their friends come up to congratulate them, heart as full as the first Viking to ever step foot on the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me in pro-shipping, multi-shipping, Tony Stark stan hell on [tumblr.](https://copper-mouth.tumblr.com/)


End file.
